“Kane. Kane had her. She was in some sort of trance.”

“No. It wasn’t Kane. I’m a little dizzy. Maybe I should just sit down.”

She slid to the floor, taking Zoe with her.

“Oh, God. Are you pregnant?”

“What?” The shock went a long way toward clearing her head as she goggled at Zoe. “No. Jeez. I just started having sex again, remember? Would you two stop staring at me as if I were about to start speaking in tongues?”

“Here. Have some water.” Zoe pulled a bottle from the holster on her tool belt.

“I’m okay.” But she gulped down the water. “I was just experimenting with a little self-hypnosis.”

“Here, let me have that.” Malory reached for the water, took a deep drink. “You scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry. I had this idea that the key’s here. Yours was—and the whole past, present, future thing. The store, our businesses. The books I’m going to be hauling in here. Truth in lies. How Kane showed me the place all finished and full of those books and customers buying them.”

“Okay. I’m following.” Zoe pulled out a red-and-white bandanna and dabbed at Dana’s brow. “But what happened? When I walked in you were standing in the middle of the room with your arm out in front of you. Kind of swaying, with your eyes closed. Honey, you looked really spooky.”

“I was trying to, you know, bring the key out. See the key. Be the key. Shit, that sounds stupid.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Handing the water back to Zoe, Malory considered. “It’s a good idea. It could be here. Hell, it could be anywhere, so why not here?”

“A good idea,” Zoe agreed. “But I don’t think you should try something like that alone. It could be like opening yourself up to him, with nobody around to keep you steady. Like a control group, or backup. You really looked out of it, Dana.”

“You’ve got a point.” But she smiled. “Stop fussing, Mom.” To lighten the mood, she pinched Zoe’s biceps. “You’re a lot stronger than you look. You work out regular?”

“A little here and there. Mostly I’m just built.” And her heart rate settled down again. “You look better now. Maybe we could try something like this, with the three of us.”

“It might be worth a shot,” Malory agreed.

“If you’re up to it, Dana. We could sit right here, link hands. Mal and I could sort of push our energy toward you.”

“Perhaps you recall a small incident last month involving a Ouija board?” Dana asked.

“Not likely to forget.” Zoe gave a quick shudder. “But we wouldn’t be using anything but our own connection. It’s not like we’re playing around with the dark arts, or whatever it is.”

“Okay.” Lips pursed, Dana looked around. “But it seems kind of silly. The three of us sitting on a drop cloth in an empty, half-painted room trying to conjure up a magic key. But . . .” She gripped Zoe’s hand, then Malory’s. “I’m in.”

“Mal, maybe you could give her some tips. What it was like for you, what you did.”

“I don’t know if I can explain it. So much of it just happened. It’s like being in a dream, but knowing you’re dreaming, and at the same time knowing it’s not a dream.”

“That’s a big help.” But with a half laugh, Dana squeezed her hand. “Actually, I know what you mean. It’s the way I felt when he took me into the bookstore.”

“I don’t know how I understood what to do, but it was suddenly so clear. The one thing was focusing on what I had to do without letting him know I was focusing on it. And that was hard, really hard, but part of that was because I was so scared. For me, it helped to concentrate on painting, the actual art and act. The colors, the tone, the detail. I don’t know if that helps you.”

“I don’t know either. So let’s find out.”

“We’re not going to let anything happen to you,” Zoe told her. “We’re going to be right here.”

“Okay.”

Taking that long breath, Dana shut her eyes. It was a comfort to feel the hands gripped on hers. Like an anchor, she supposed, that would prevent her from floating off somewhere she shouldn’t go.

She let herself listen again to the sounds of the house, to her own quiet, steady breathing matching the rhythm of her friends’. She smelled paint, and perfume.

There was the key again, shining on the colored field she now realized was the wall she’d just painted. Her wall, with the color chosen by the woman flanking her.

But when she reached out for it with her mind, she could bring it no closer.

She struggled with impatience and tried to imagine how the key would feel in her hand. Smooth, she thought, and cool.

No, it would have heat. It held power. She would feel that fire from which it was forged, and when she closed her fist over it, it would fit easily in her palm.

Because she was meant to hold it.

The color washed away to a strong white lined with black. The key seemed to melt into it, a shimmering gold pool that dripped over black and white, then faded away.

In her mind she heard a long sigh. A woman’s sigh. And felt, heard, a rush of wind that smelled like autumn burning.

She walked at night, and was the night with all its shadows and all its secrets. When she wept, she wept for day.

The words that ran through her mind brought such an ache she thought her heart might bleed dry from it, as from a mortal wound. In defense, she shut them off.

Everything faded again. And she could smell the paint, and the perfume.

She opened her eyes, saw her friends watching her.

“Honey, are you all right?” Zoe spoke gently as she freed her hand from Malory’s and touched Dana’s cheek.

“Sure. Yeah.”

“You’re crying.” Zoe dried Dana’s cheek with the bandanna.

“Am I? I don’t know why. Something hurt, I guess. You know.” She pressed a hand to her heart. “In here. I don’t know where it is. I still don’t know where the key is.”

She scrubbed the heels of her hands over her face and told them what she’d imagined.

“She walks at night,” Malory repeated. “The goddess walks.”

“Yeah. It sounded sort of familiar, but I could’ve made it up. Or it could apply to Niniane. I just know it made me horribly sad.”